


Empty Cereal Boxes

by signifier



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Secret Santa, michael/ryan if u squint, tw violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21611833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifier/pseuds/signifier
Summary: ‘You think we should wash up for him?’ Michael jokes, waggling his fingers over the pile of plates and cups in the sink.Ryan grins, coming to stand beside him. ‘Might soften the blow of killing him, but I’m not touching that.’‘Understandable.’-Prompt - 'Killed him? Wait, what, literally?'
Relationships: Michael Jones & Ryan Haywood
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Empty Cereal Boxes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [romanee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanee/gifts).

> For Roma! Happy holidays pal! I really hope u like this, as i quite like how it turned out :))

Michael is fucking freezing.

‘Can we go now?’ He shoves Ryan lightly on the shoulder, whispering the words.

Ryan, forever the perfectionist, holds up a hand and shoots him a disapproving look before going back to peering through the window into the dark kitchen.

It looks empty, small from what he can see and once he’s certain there’s nobody hiding in the darkness or in between the fridge and the counters, he makes quick work of unlocking the back door. It clicks open, and no alarms sound.

‘Awful security.’

Michael snickers.

Ryan leads the way, creeping into the room and scrunching his nose at the smell. Michael follows and leaves the back door open for a quick getaway; he props it open with a pair of slippers that lay beside the door.

The kitchen is dirty. There are breadcrumbs covering the surface of the counters and a monster pile of trash in one corner of the small room. Empty cereal boxes litter the counter tops. Surprisingly, the walls are covered with inspirational cooking quotes. The tiles on the floor are cracking and sticky when the two men lift their boots to walk. There’s a large pile of plates, bowls, pans, cutlery and trays besides the sink that looks like it’s one gentle push from tipping over.

‘You’d think he’d wash the dishes when he runs out,’ Michael begins, his voice barely a whisper as he gestures to the empty cupboards he has open, ‘but nope.’

‘Slob,’ Ryan sneers, Michael nodding in agreement as he slowly closes the cupboard doors.

‘You think we should wash up for him?’ Michael jokes, waggling his fingers over the pile of plates and cups in the sink.

Ryan grins, coming to stand beside him. ‘Might soften the blow of killing him, but I’m not touching that.’

‘Understandable.’

They move into the living room, hands on concealed weapons in case of an emergency. It’s nicer than the kitchen from what they can tell, more personality to it with the photos that line the walls and the way the curtains seem to match the cushions on the couch. There’s a coffee table in the middle of the room, littered with coasters, mugs and a single knife.

‘Well that’s not safe,’ Ryan moves his hands to his hips, dropping his voice even lower when he speaks. There’s a chance they’re right under the man’s bedroom.

Michael stifles a giggle from where he’s standing by a cabinet, photo frame in gloved hand. He chucks it to Ryan when the other man turns. Ryan fumbles for a moment, barely catches it and shoots Michael a murderous look. Michael would be scared, if he could see the look on his face.

‘She’s pretty. Think she’ll be sad?’

‘Over this guy? Fuck no.’

‘You’re right.’

‘As always.’

Ryan rolls his eyes, throws the photo back to Michael who catches it perfectly. ‘Let’s head up.’

Together, they approach the stairs, Ryan leading the way as normal with his hand ghosting over the railing as he goes. They’re careful and slow, weary of creaking steps that would alert their host of their presence. There’s only one incident, Ryan stopping in his tracks as Michael hits a particularly loud spot. He turns, and the lad has his eyes screwed shut and his hands in fists as they listen for movement. They wait. Nothing. Michael nods up at Ryan in the dark and they set off once more, managing to reach the top of the stairs with no other pauses.

At the top of the stairs, there are three doors.

One is open; it’s a small study, a desk with no computer or laptop and a swivel chair. The other two are closed.

‘You take the right?’ Michael mouths. Ryan nods in response.

They open the doors on the count of three, bursting into the rooms. Ryan’s hand goes straight to his knife when he realises he’s in a bedroom. There’s a double bed in the middle of the room and a small bedside table to the left of it. He squints in the dark, trying to make out if anyone’s sleeping in the bed and then there’s the flash of metal to his right that Ryan barely manages to dodge. Heat flashes up his arm and he cries out, reacting immediately to the danger in the dark.

Michael opens his door to find a bathroom. It’s a ghastly green colour with towels across the floor and over the side of the bath. He cringes. ‘How could anyone possibly live like this?’

‘Michael!’

-

_‘What are we doing, Geoff?’ Ryan asks when they’re gathered in the briefing room. Geoff’s standing at the front with a white board and a list of information, whereas Ryan, Michael and Gavin are seated around a table. It’s he and Michael who’ll be going on the job, but Gavin’s always included in the meetings. He does more research than any of them, so it’s useful to have him up to speed._

_‘The corpirate is threatening one of our allies. I need you to deal with one of their higher ups, make sure that the threats stop. You’ll be visiting a man by the name of Mark Nutt-‘_

_Gavin fails to hide his laugh._

_‘Why’s that funny?’ Ryan frowns._

_‘Well, Nutt, init,’ the lad shrugs._

_Michael giggles beside him as Geoff sighs, looks up at the ceiling and goes back to the brief. _

_‘Just get him to shut up. I don’t care how you do it. Get out.’_

_Geoff watches as they leave, Ryan walking out first before Michael shoves Gavin into the doorframe. He’s never wanted a new crew more._

-

Michael barges into the room, has to catch the door from hitting him with the way it bounces off the wall as he watches Mark Nutt pin Ryan to the bed and try to bring a knife down into his throat. Michael rushes forward, wraps his arms around Marks neck and puts all of his weight backwards to drag him off.

Ryan keeps dodging the wild swings of the knife, trying to get his own out from under his jacket while making sure he doesn’t get sliced up. Michael’s back hits a wall, knees almost buckling from a radiator, but his hold remains and he tightens his grip. Ryan makes a move to try and grab Marks wrist and take the knife, but Mark Nutt is smart, and uses Michaels hold on him to lift both his feet off the floor and firmly kick Ryan in the chest. The Vagabond stumbles back onto the bed, bouncing off the mattress and onto the floor.

Mark must see his opportunity as he gets an elbow in Michael’s ribs, a harsh blow that knocks the air from him and releases his grip enough that the target can get free. Mark Nutt is turning, adjusting the hold of his knife and making a swing for Michael just as Ryan recovers and drives the blade of his knife into the side of Marks neck. It buries itself to the hilt.

Mark Nutt stutters, eyes growing wide as his hands weakly push at where Ryan’s still holding the handle of the knife. Michael watches as Ryan uses one hand to steady Marks face as he pulls the blade free. A burst of blood fires from his throat, hitting Ryan’s face, shoulder and a little bit of the bed. The body falls and Ryan moves out of the way to let it hit the floor with a thud.

Ryan exhales a large breath, pushing up his mask. He wipes the knife off on his pants before placing his hands on his hips as he looks around the room and down at the body on the floor. ‘Well. I’d say job done.’

Michael agrees, looks pleased with the both of them before his eyes fall on Ryan’s face and he grimaces. Ryan frowns slightly and cocks his head in question.

Red speckles of blood dot around Ryan’s left eye, almost like freckles, where the spray of an artery got through the eyes of his mask.

‘That’s fucking disgusting. Dude, you’ll get pinkeye or something,’ Michael scolds, stepping over the body to pluck a tissue from the box on the bedside table. He makes sure not to step in the slowly expanding pool of blood on his way back to Ryan before gently wiping the red from around his eyes.

‘Thanks,’ Ryan smiles once he’s done, watches as Michael drops the tissue onto the floor. It’s satisfying, in a way, as the fabric absorbs the blood and slowly shrivels. ‘Dinner?’

‘Yes, I’m fucking starving.’

-

In-N-Out is, perfectly, just around the corner from Mark Nutt’s house.

The streetlights are still on when they drive, creating an iridescent hue that passes over the dashboard and their faces every so often. Ryan’s driving; gloves forgotten somewhere in the backseat, as Michael presses one hand to his ribs and uses the small light of the streetlamps to look at his other hand closely.

‘Are you okay?’ Ryan asks, noticing the winces and flexing of Michael’s hand.

‘No, my hand fucking hurts.’

‘What did you do?’ Ryan frowns, glancing between the road and where Michael was inspecting his bleeding hand.

‘Caught my knuckles on the door,’

‘You poor baby.’

Michael reaches out and whacks Ryan lightly in the stomach, but the older man simply laughs and keeps his eyes on the road.

‘We’ll get you a large meal, and you’ll feel better.’

Michael pouts, silent for a while before he gives in. ‘Fine, but I want two burgers.’

Ryan huffs out a laugh. ‘I think we can afford that.’

-

Geoff’s talking to Trevor when they enter the room. He’s got his arms crossed, looking down at a clipboard, but he notices when they walk in and waves Trevor away.

‘Collins,’ Ryan nods as he passes, hands him a few bags of food for the B – Team, the same time that Michael grins and finger guns the man.

‘Treyco.’

Trevor nods in response, returns Michael’s greeting with very professional and serious finger guns.

‘How’d it go?’ Geoff asks when they get closer, arms still crossed and eyebrows raised expectantly.

‘Fear not, oh great one, we killed him,’ Ryan informs, a fry in his mouth and his hand already reaching for another one.

Geoff’s blood runs cold.

‘You better not be eating from my box,’ Michael moves to stand beside him, peering into the bag.

‘Nah, Gavin’s.’

‘Killed him? Wait, what, literally?’

Michael scoffs, unwrapping a burger. ‘No, we’re joking. We tucked him into bed and then Ryan sent him to sleep with a bedtime story – yes, Geoff, literally.’

The two men are too wrapped up in the food they have in their hands to notice the way Geoff’s staring at them. It’s Ryan who notices. He frowns, fry half way to his lips. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘You killed him.’

‘Yes?’

‘Like, _killed him_ killed him. Dead, killed him.’

‘Yes Geoff, the man no longer exists in this word, fucking hell it’s not that hard to understand,’ Michael teases, bun and meat spitting from his lips as he speaks. Ryan cringes just looking at him.

Michael almost drops his burger when Geoff shoves him on the shoulder, ribs pulsing with heat at the movement.

‘You fucking idiots. I told you to shut him up, not kill him,’ Geoff rages, earning the attention of a few crew members dotted around the room.

Ryan and Michael share a look.

‘So,’ Ryan begins.

‘You didn’t want him dead?’ Michael finishes.

Geoff is silent for a long while, looking back and forth between the two men for an uncomfortable period of time before shooting a hand out and snatching an In-N-Out bag from Ryan’s hands. ‘You’ll both be fucking dead in a minute. D’you know how much chaos this is gonna cause the crew? What if the corpirate wants an eye for an eye – god, fucking Gavin would have been better at this than you two bags of dicks.’

‘So, we’ll just, okay.’ Ryan’s already backing up, pulling at Michael’s sleeve to bring the lad with him.

They back up a considerate amount, still nodding at Geoffs rant before they’re a safe distance to turn and run for the lift.

They remain quiet until the door shuts before glancing at each other. Michael explodes into a fit of giggles.

‘Shit man, that’s awkward.’

Ryan’s not as amused. ‘I don’t know, this might be serious. We might have really fucked it.’

Michael shakes his head, leans back on the lifts railing. ‘Nah. Geoff’ll sort it. You remember the pantheon?’

Ryan nods.

‘Geoff cleared that in days, and now he’s got all of us to help him. You worry too much.’

The gent leant back too, smiling slightly. ‘Habit.’

‘I know,’ Michael nudges his shoulder with his own, ‘we’ll cleanse you of it yet.’

A light ting lets them know that they’ve reached Michaels floor. He pushes off from the rail, stuffs the remains of his burger into his mouth so he can carry his second one and his milkshake and waves at Ryan before stepping off.

The doors close and Ryan rides the lift one more floor down to deliver Gavin his food, thinking of his crew and the problems they were about to face as he absentmindedly munches on fries out of the bag. Michael was right. Whatever was coming their way; they’d face it together, and they’d win.


End file.
